I have lost so much. And it doesn’t stop.

My son, David Glasser, was a Phoenix Police Officer killed in the line of duty on May 18, 2016. When Davey died, he took all of my plans and dreams for the rest of my life with him. He was included in all of them and a central character in many.

They were all ripped away. I’ve been on a journey of creating revised plans and dreams these last 7 years. It hasn’t been easy. It’s nothing I wanted to do but it needed to be done. God has a purpose for why I am still here so I move forward, one painful step at a time.

My daughter, Katie, and I recently had the opportunity to travel to Rome, Italy together and get on a cruise ship that toured the Greek Isles. It was fun and we made a boatload (pun intended) of new, precious memories.

But my heart broke a little more every time I thought about the last time we were in Rome – Davey had been with us. Almost 16 years ago, my whole family toured Italy for 2 1/2 weeks. That family is no longer whole because we’re missing a main person – Davey.

We just keep losing.

That’s what so different when a child dies . Davey should be here – right now. I was not supposed to go to his funeral, he was supposed to go to mine. He would have been a part of everything that has happened the last 7 years. He should have had a part of everything that will happen in my life until I leave this planet.

Today, on Father’s Day, its especially hard because Davey left his two small children behind. He was already proving to be a great father before he died. He was involved with everything about his children and spend a lot of time with them. They have lost so much.

It’s a very tough journey. If you are interested in reading more of my story, I recently published a book on Amazon, “Then I Looked Up: Losing a Child, Finding His Legacy of Love.”

Sometimes its hard to keep a positive attitude about tomorrow knowing that I’m just going to keep losing what should have been. I’m getting used to life without Davey but I don’t like it. I’m getting used to losing more every year –

but I don’t like it.

Miss you, Davey.

Love you.